


Smoke Rings and Silver Rings

by enigma_kar



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigma_kar/pseuds/enigma_kar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a rare moment of calm, Bilbo reflects and Thorin gives him something precious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke Rings and Silver Rings

**Author's Note:**

> The ring in this story is based off the one Thorin wears in the movie. I did try to translate the rune on the ring, but was unable to. Therefore, I am not 100% sure what it means. If you do know what it means, please let me know. I'd be really interested! 
> 
> Also, this can be read as pre-slash Thorin/Bilbo (which is what I had in mind while writing) or just very close friends. Either way, enjoy... before my inner Tolkien-purist gets back in control.

**Smoke Rings and Silver Rings**

It was their last night at Beorn’s Hall.

Leaving the warmth of the fire, Bilbo Baggins found himself seated on the porch, pipe in hand and thinking of all that had come to pass. As he packed his pipe, he thought of how only a few weeks ago he had known nothing of dwarves, nor of the ways of wizards, or of goblins or dragons. The comfort of his home and the smell of his books seemed like a distance memory; a page out of someone else's life. Part of him missed it greatly. But a stronger part of him knew that the adventure was worth leaving his cosy hole. Smiling to himself, Bilbo looked up at the stars and the bright curve of the moon. He knew there would be more danger to come; he knew he would be changed forever. But now under the beautiful sky, everything was calm. What would come would come, he realised. There was no point worrying prematurely. So with a content sigh, Bilbo lit his pipe and took a long draw.

There was a creak of timber behind him and Bilbo turned to see Thorin Oakenshield. “May I join you?” He asked.

Bilbo smiled and nodded and the dwarf gently lowered himself to sit beside the halfling. Ever since their fight against Azog and Bilbo had stood over Thorin's broken body in defiant protection, they had reached a mutual acceptance of each other. "It's a beautiful evening, isn't it?" Bilbo said.

Thorin bowed his head in accord. “I will miss the comfort and safety of this place, no matter how odd it is.”

“I never would have dreamed I’d find myself here,” Bilbo said softly before blowing a smoke ring. “Here, on this adventure.”

“Things never turn out how you expect,” Thorin replied. The two of them watched the smoke ring grow and dissipate. 

“No...” Bilbo’s reply trailed off and they sat in companionable silence for several long moments.

“I have something to show you,” Thorin said, his deep voice suddenly more serious as he broke their reverie. "If you have a moment."

“Of course,” Bilbo said, placing his pipe to one side.

He watched as Thorin slide a silver ring off his finger. “This was originally my fathers,” he said, twirling it in his fingers before holding it out to the hobbit. “Here.” Bilbo took the ring with a reverence he reserved for only his most prized possessions. He couldn’t recall ever noticing it on Thorin’s finger before. Angling it up towards to the moonlight, Bilbo’s first impression was that it was large; it would have easily slipped over two of his hobbit sized fingers. The band itself was thick and imperfect. Every scuff and dent in the metal was a reminder of all the battles it must have seen. Despite this, the rune that was engraved in it stood out boldly. Bilbo ran a finger over it.

“What does it mean?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from the ring. Thorin fixed the halfling with an intent gaze. “Oh, I didn’t mean to pry,” Bilbo flustered. “I know... the secrecy of your language. Really, I was just interested. I... I like learning about such things.”

Thorin’s lip twitched in what could be considered a fond smile. “You do not have a single word for it in your tongue,” he said. “But it’s similar to loyalty or honour.”

“Oh,” Bilbo murmured looking back over the ring. Of course that was what it meant. There was nothing else it could mean. And there was nothing else that suited Thorin more, Bilbo realised. It wasn’t perfectly intricate and sparkling like so much of the beautiful Elvish jewels. It was worn and hardened from a tough and painful life. And for that reason, it was so much more worthy.

“I’d like you to have it,” Thorin said, watching Bilbo study it.

“Pardon?” Bilbo blinked in surprise and turned his full attention back to the dwarf.

“The ring,” repeated Thorin. “I’d like you to have it.”

There was a pregnant silence. “I think,” Bilbo began, looking down at his pipe. “I think I must have smoked a little too much, because it sounded like you wanted to give me your ancient and priceless ring that was passed down to you from your father!”

The dwarf actually chuckled. “You did not hear me wrong, Bilbo.”

“Thorin... I can’t.”

“Please.”

“I...”

“Just keep it safe for me, then.” Thorin’s eyes locked onto Bilbo’s and for a moment they shared a deep connection. They both knew it was a lie; Thorin would never ask for it back. The hobbit held out the ring, offering it back to Thorin one last time. The ring was held between them for a mere second before Thorin reached up and cupped Bilbo’s small hand in his. Gently, he folded the small fingers over, safely securing the ring in the halfling’s palm. “You have as much loyalty and honour as any dwarf I know. Please. I want it to be yours.”

“No, it...” Bilbo struggled to find the words as he gazed at his closed hand. “It... it’s too big for me!”

“Here,” Thorin pulled a length of cord from his pocket which such speed that Bilbo suspected he had expected this reaction. “Use this.”

Moments later the ring hung around Bilbo’s neck. He fingered it, unsure. “What would the others say?”

In reply, Thorin leaned forward and tucked the necklace deep into Bilbo’s shirt so it was hidden by three layers of clothing. “Do they need to know?”

“They’d notice, surely.”

“Not if you kept it here,” Thorin pressed a hand to Bilbo’s chest, feeling its warmth and the heart beating beneath.

“Okay,” whispered Bilbo. He wanted to say more, to protest more, but he was suddenly aware of how close their faces were with Thorin leaning so close. He felt his face reddening and swallowed thickly. Then just like that Thorin was gone, leaning back and out of Bilbo’s space and turning to look at the sky again.

Blinking rapidly, Bilbo frowned and shook his head like a dog coming out of water. Then, stealing himself, he stretched out and took hold of Thorin’s hand. The dwarf’s head whipped around to face him. “ _Thank you_ ,” Bilbo said fervently, giving his hand a squeeze.

Thorin gave a smile. “No, thank _you_ , Bilbo Baggins; for giving me your willing heart and filling me with so much hope.”

At that, Bilbo blushed even harder and bowed his head mumbling incoherently. Then, because he didn’t quite know what to say, he pulled out his spare pipe and offered it to the dwarf. Thorin took it with another smile; one that shone brighter than all the stars above.

And the rest of the evening passed in a sky of smoke rings.


End file.
